Switched by the Moon
by highlightedsky12
Summary: Onatah is a girl from the Oneida tribe of the Iroquois Native Americans. Her people have been attacked by the notorious Blackfoot tribe, sending her world into a sudden chaos. Onatah's life has been saved by one thing only; the mark of a crescent moon.


Chapter 1: Taken

Thundering hooves of horses ran about our camp, women and children screaming, men shouting. My ears rang with the sound of death and sadness. Throughout the commotion my mother continued yelling at me to keeping running away from the invaders, the Blackfoot tribe. I had never seen them up close, my life so far had only been seven harvests, but it was long enough to know and hear the stories of what they did to other tribes surrounding ours.

"Onatah! Run! Run faster!" I snapped my head back to see my mother. She was holding my three mooned brother close to her breast, her eyes wide with fear as she ran. I look past her head to see our home being burned with glowing sticks. The light danced off the invaders bodies, allowing me to see the streaks and smears of red liquid running down their arms and knives. War paint was smeared over the mans faced I stared into. His black, cold eyes found mines, I couldn't move.

"Onatah!" I blinked, the trance broken by the sound of my friend Otetianis ragged voice. He raced towards be, his hand reaching for mine. I had no idea what he was trying to do, but whatever it was soon knocked him to the ground. His face was cut deeply, a red river of blood trickling down off his chin.

"Oteti-! Ahh!" I cried out in pain as my hair was being pulled like a rabbit caught in a snare. I was on the neck of the horse of an invader. I kicked and screamed for my mother, for my father, and for Otetiani to get up. The man on the horse was yelling at me in his tongue. I had no idea what he was saying, whatever it was though it was not in kind words. I looked up at his chest. Blood was smeared all over it. What I had eaten earlier came out through my mouth and ran down the side of his horse. He hit me on my back, I let out a groan of pain.

"Onatah! Get off! Get off!" My mothers voice was close, she was clinging onto the horse while trying to get at me. The man pulled out a knife. A quick motion of his hand, blood glazed the sharp end, my mother dropped to the ground, motionless. Everything went black.

I opened my eyes and the sky was filled with light, a horse moving smoothly beneath me. My wrists and ankles were now bound together with strange chords. There were many men on horses, all covered in blood. My people's blood. I began to feel my insides want to come out from my body.

The man whose horse I was now riding stop suddenly, spoke a few words in his tongue to a nearby man and got off the horse. He pulled me down on the ground, roughly. The ground was hard and firm under my body, but I wasn't on the ground for long. One of the men came and picked my up, bound me to a nearby tree with another strange chord. I didn't try to struggle against them for it was out of my power to continue resisting. I knew that they would kill me here, leaving my blood and spirit to go back to mother earth, She being ready to reuse the spirit to create another.

Three of the men seemed to be deciding which one of them would kill me. I had to guess that was the case. Their knives and daggers kept being pointed at me, all still covered in blood, mostly dry now. I could no longer look at them. I allowed my head to lean against the tree which I was placed against. The smell of wood and the coarseness of the bark made me think of home, how my home used to be. My mother, now dead, my brother I had no idea where my mother had hidden him. These thoughts brought tears to my eyes. I could not bring myself to think about how Otetiani had fared against the blow that had been given to him. For all I knew he was dead like most of my people; a people whom I would never see again.

A twig snapped close to where I was, making my head snap backwards to see who was coming. A boy-close to ten or eleven harvests in age had approached near me. I wished that the tree spirit would just envelop me and take me away from these strange, murderous men. Oh mother of the land take me now-I wished this silently for words could not be uttered form my lips. Even if they had passed through my lips they would have no meaning to them.

He began to lift his hand from his side- I cringed against the tree- but no pain or harm came to me. Instead he lifted part of the deerskin that had been torn and looked at a mark - in the shape of a crescent -on my chest. At the sight of this mark his eyes widened, his moth hung open like a fish from a river.

He took one more glance- sprung up like a deer - and ran to the three men arguing. There were many hand motions pointing to me and many words formed by their mouths that still had not made sense to me. Soon all the eyes of the men were upon me- eyes wide -as if they had seen their ancestors rise out from the tree behind me.

Their mouths became like that of the boys- open -like fish that were trapped in the large nets, panicking because they knew they were doomed. The only face I could focus on was the boys- bloodless, innocent -for there was something about him that reminded me of my friend- my best friend for life -whom I would never see again.

I drowned myself in the thoughts of how my life was before these men came, tearing every aspect of my life apart. The sun would now rise and set with no meaning left behind it. I would die soon. I would be with my people once again in spirit and I would be happy once more.

The stench of dried blood filled my nostrils as all the men towered over me, now close to the tree. I waited for their blades to fall deep into my body, releasing the spirit from within. They leaned in- I was prepared for them -but the blades never found my body. Instead they found the richness of the land.

My eyes widened, staring at the blade which had been plunged into the rich soil. "What is happening?" I managed to ask between deep breaths. They just stared at me blankly. Obviously not knowing what I had uttered in my small voice. This would be a problem for I had not an idea what they spoke nor did they understand what I spoke to them.

"You are of the light in the night sky." I turned to the voice who had spoken. It was the boy who had first seen the mark on my chest. He approached and the men muttered words in their tongue. I was beginning to wonder why-if this one boy could speak in my tongue- they could yet not utter one word that made sense.

"Forgive me boy-"

"My name that has been given to me by my adopted tribe is Peta," he interjected. HIs voice powerful and commanding for one of his age. "I am originally from the Seneca tribe, valley dwellers as I am told by my kinsmen." I looked on at him in astonishment.

"How-" I cleared my throat, dry from not having water. "How do you know my tongue?"

"Girl-"

"My name in Onatah, my given tribe name." My voice sharp, although I had no reason to begrudge this boy. His eyes seemed to fill with understanding, knowing almost how I felt at this moment.

"I am sorry Onatah, Apisi had not told me anything about you, seeing as he do not speak this tongue." He looked down at the ground, kicked the dirt with his feet.

"I wish to go to my people." My voice wavered as I uttered these words. The thought of my people made me feel sick again. "I do not wish to be with these men who kill for prize and honor. Honor means nothing if obtained by killing loved ones-"

"Do not make me raise my voice. For they will sense that I am getting angered." His face became flushed, as if he had some sort of power over me.

"What did you mean when you told me that I am 'of the light in the night sky?'" I fidgeted in my strapped position, becoming more and more uncomfortable as the eyes kept going to my chest, looking at the mark that I bore on the left side above my soul. The mark which had apparently saved my life.

"You bear the mark of the light in the night sky. Thus you, Onatah of the Oneida, are one of the people in the light in the night sky." His explanation was plain and simple- so plainly spoke -as if I were to understand what his full meaning was. He recognized the confusion in my eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. "You shall soon understand. First we must take you from here."


End file.
